The Silver Lining
by Sugarculted
Summary: Imagine a MU, where most superheroes have retired. Their lives are different, yet what will become of Earth when the threat of Galactus comes? Starring your regular favourites, with the spotlight being on Thanos and the Silver Surfer!
1. Chapter 1

**The Silver Lining**

A year from now, a certain silver line zipped through the dark starry sky, this glowing line could easily be seen in the pitch black dark. Suddenly, as a young child watched from his window, he witnessed the beam of silver stop. Running up to his father's bedroom, he reached for the telescope. Spending a few seconds to get it ready in a hurry, he looked through it. Looking straight at the silver comet, which had oddly stopped, he stood back in awe. It was an amazing sight, and as he took another look he realised the comet had disappeared, perhaps to keep flying through the starry skies. He sat on his father's bed and couldn't believe what he saw. His father awoke, "What's the matter, Franklin?" he questioned, still lying in his bed. "I saw the surfer, dad!" The young child replied, with glee. The father in the bed leaned forwards from lying down. "You saw the surfer? I must've miscalculated the time I'd be able to see it. That's a bit of a shame…" He spoke, reaching for his glasses on the side. The father had grey hair, and brown eyes. His son was around the age of nine, and already showed the intellect of his father, Reed Richards…

On the grounds of the Xavier institute, sat the great Beast and leader Scott Summers. There they stood, in large overcoats. Beast was no different than his usual self, yet most of his face was covered by the shadow of his hat. Both mutants stood before a golden gravestone. "I miss him, Hank. I really do." Scott said, sorting out his left sleeve. "I think we all do, Scott. He was a great leader; even after his passing he inspires most mutants so powerfully. I spoke to Emma last night, by the way." Beast replied, looking at the smaller gravestone beside Professor Charles Xavier's. "How is she?" Scott wondered, peering up into the starry sky. "She's not too bad, she's finding it incredibly hard to overcome the fact she's lost her telepathy. Scott, I do believe she wouldn't mind making contact with you once more." The blue furred mutant claimed, looking at Scott. Summers shook his head briefly, "I don't think I would like to speak to her. The past may be something to be forgotten, sometimes…but our memories? Nothing to be proud of. Remember Hank, it was my obsession with Jean that lead to her demise." Scott answered, looking away. "Well, try to think about it…Ororo and I are leaving for England tomorrow night. I hope you'll be there, alongside our old friends." Beast hoped, as he walked away slowly. "I'll make it, Hank. You take care." Scott finished, as he stepped back into the mansion….

**1 year ago…**

"Just took a detour, and I presume it's more than enough for you to consume. I understand I'm enslaved, but I don't approve of your hunger. Can't we at least move onto a different planet? This is more than you need. It's going to take a lot, to take this planet down." A man, cloaked in a silver substance said. He was speaking to another being, and they were oddly having their conversation on the surface of the moon. The man in the silver substance was hovering with a sleek, silver board. He was bald, and had no eye colour either. His muscles could easily prove he was tough. He was speaking to a man his stature, who wore a strange purple suit. He looked extremely old, yet had the same muscle structure as the man dressed in silver. He had blue eyes, and had short black hair. The man in purple sighed to himself, as he was sitting. "The other planets have done nothing for me, Surfer. I need to taste something challenging, for once…I'll assign you to accomplish various tasks, to bring the planet down slowly." He replied, in a very deep voice. The man addressed as Surfer placed his board on the dusty, uneven ground and sat beside the man. "I managed to take an account of the history, and they've had a rough past few years. Can't you at least try to satisfy your hunger elsewhere?" The Surfer questioned, awaiting a response. The man dressed in purple stood up and crossed his arms. "What a shame, for now they must face the most difficult force ever. The world devourer, Galactus!" He boasted, with his arms held high in the air. "Galactus, surely you can comprehend with what they've been through?" The Surfer questioned, still. "I've already transferred the memories you've gathered in your head, into my brain. They haven't been through that much, have they? There have been a few deaths here and there, heroes lost. You are my herald, Surfer. Stop persuading me to change my mind. They haven't prepared for me, yet. I have no place in my heart for those human beings. Time to devour this rather odd planet." He yelled, as he began to hover in the air. "Now, now we begin. Have you found the strongest advantages the planet has?" Galactus spoke, as he looked straight at the planet Earth. The Surfer leapt onto his board which was already hovering, and he slowly moved towards the planet Earth. "Yes, I've found out pretty much all I need to know." The Surfer answered. "Good, I'll implant the orders, once you land on the miserable planet." Galactus replied. The Surfer looked back at Galactus and sighed to himself softly. He pulled the tip of his board up, as he entered the Earth's atmosphere. His silver body was glowing red, and his whole body and board were glowing that colour. He struggled only the slightest, unlike any other person would. It was obvious he was a cosmic being, he was able to create sound, survive in space and even enter Earth's atmosphere without a burn. Finally, he had reached the atmosphere of Earth, but for some bizarre odd reason he didn't concentrate and fell from the skies. Yelling in fear, he was falling into a vast barren rocky plain…

It was a late afternoon, in the sunny place of Spain. A well known American hero, stood outside on the balcony. He sipped his wine, and felt the loneliest he had ever been…in a long time. His old friend, Bucky…died just a few years back. He was the only friend Steve Rogers had left, of his generation. Nothing much had changed with Steve Rogers, sure he had retired from the superhero lifestyle but his appearance stayed the same. The super-soldier serum still flowed through his veins. Around twelve years ago, superheroes became something of the past. The world became a better place; villains were either locked up or killed. S.H.I.E.L.D became a greater importance across the world, finally being able to recreate the serum that made Steve Rogers; Captain America. S.H.I.E.L.D operatives filled in the boots of the famous superheroes. Heroes retired, to lead a normal life. Steve Rogers was the last to retire, to lead a married life with Janet, known as The Wasp. She hadn't changed much; just her brown hair was much longer. She walked up towards Steve, who was in another world…thinking about the past life. She wrapped her arms around him, and relaxed her head on his back. "Are you okay, Steve? You've become rather distant recently…" Janet questioned, closing her eyes. "Steve? Are you okay?" She repeated. Steve finally stopped thinking about the few years back, and answered. "Not really, Janet. You'd think, after all this time…I would have adjusted. It still only feels like last week, when I was thawed out of the ice. I've lost Bucky, the only one I could relate too in this new world. His death, it's just affected me. Today was the exact day he died on that hospital bed years ago. Why can't I adjust, Janet?" Steve wondered, looking down. Janet didn't reply, she had been receiving this behaviour from Steve all year. She tried to comprehend with the fact Steve came from a different generation, but she just couldn't cope. Her arms left Steve's side, as she walked into the room to pick up a phone call. As she did, she briefly turned to the saddened Steve Rogers. For some bizarre reason, Janet didn't want her husband listening in on her conversation over the phone. The main reason was because; she was speaking to an old flame, her ex-husband…Hank Pym. Janet felt neglected, and saw Hank Pym as her comfort. Steve walked back into the main living area, and looked up at the glistening American shield. He closed his eyes briefly, and remembered the last time he used that weapon…

Twelve years ago…

The Helicarrier that belonged to Nick Fury was a nightmare. Johann Schmidt, formerly known as the Red Skull had finally left his mark on the world. He had killed dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D agents by unleashing a deadly flesh eating virus. The exact same virus that had disfigured his face. Flames surrounded the Helicarrier, weapons were destroyed, and prisoners were freed. Considering this was the beginning of the end of an era, the Red Skull knew he had a great chance to finally topple S.H.I.E.L.D. He was vastly successful, in killing hundreds…and even, Steve Roger's old flame from the 1950's, Wendy. This meant, for definite…that Captain America wouldn't take this lying down. Nick Fury was busy tackling the escaped villains with the remaining agents. Only one man stood in the way of the Red Skull. He had planned to devastate New York, by allowing the damaged Helicarrier to crash on the people below. Amongst the bodies and flames, stood the proud Red Skull. A helicopter swooped over, which was piloted by Steve himself. He was in his Captain America attire, and yielded his shield. This wasn't the time for perfect landings, so Steve leapt out of the helicopter before it crashed into an already partially destroyed control room. From the flames, emerged Steve Rogers; as Captain America. He equipped his shield on his left arm. The Red Skull smiled, at the presence of Captain America. "So, came to enjoy the display? Finally arrived, to see the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D? I did it, Cap'n. You thought you killed me, don't you know…villains like me, never die?!" Red Skull boasted, whilst laughing. He then proceeded to fire his pistol at Captain America. With his maneuverability, Steve easily evaded the gunfire. "You sicken me, and today…I'm taking you down, for good." Steve claimed, leaping in the air. Such a hate never filled Captain America's heart, yet losing loved ones, losing so many people had affected his mental stability. He couldn't care about right or wrongs; he wanted the Red Skull…dead. The shield of America was thrown at an angle, to make a direct hit. The Red Skull's arm was scuffed, yet he didn't show it. "You almost ruined Peter's life, Skull. I can't let you go on!" Steve yelled. The Red Skull had had enough with weapons; he wanted Steve dead by the use of his bare hands. "Well, I guess this is our defining moment. Come and get me, Cap'n!" The Red Skull sniggered. They ran up towards each other amidst the fire. Yelling at each other, they both managed to get a punch across the face. It all happened so slowly, Steve's right leg kicked the Red Skull in the gut. He didn't feel it, and actually used his rotting teeth to bite into Steve's arm. Steve surely felt that, and yelled in agony. Steve landed another blow, across the jaw. Without Steve's knowledge, the Red Skull was playing dirty. He disguised a small knife in his left hand, and out of the blue…stabbed Captain America in the right lung. The sharp stab immediately hurt Steve. Blood slowly dripped from his chest. Steve's eyes widened, is jaw dropped. As the Red Skull looked on in glee, he didn't realise what was behind him. The trajectory of Steve's shield was made so it would act like a boomerang. The spinning side of the shield smacked the rotting flesh at the back of the Red Skull's head. He was dazed slightly, as his dark blue blood dripped down his neck. Steve pulled the small knife from the Skull's grasp and threw it aside. The Red Skull felt the surge of pain down the back of his head. "You…bastard, Steve Rogers. You actually caught me off guard! Your shield, I actually forgot about! How could I have acted so idiotic?!" He screamed with his arms up in the air. Steve was having trouble breathing; internal bleeding was affecting him badly. He collapsed on the ground and placed his hands over his chest, gritting his teeth together. "Having trouble there, Steve?" The Red Skull asked, as he laughed. He picked up Steve's shield, which had the Red Skull's blue blood smeared on. "Oh, how great. Your shield will actually be the death of you…how, suitable." The Red Skull couldn't stop sniggering, as he held the shield high. Steve ordered himself to focus; else he knew he would be dead. He squinted and felt the wound throb with pain. Clenching his fist so ever so tightly, he punched the Red Skull in the private parts. It was a low blow, but anything counted in this fight. The Red Skull looked down at the position of Steve's fist. Steve looked on in shock. "Pathetic Rogers!" He spoke, kicking Steve across the face. He coughed blood and his vision began to blur. He crouched onto his knees, and breathed deeply. As the thunder and lightening struck above them, Steve knew what he had to do. He had to muster all his strength, one final hit…to kill the Skull. "So long, Captain America…" The Skull said, lifting the shield high. Steve closed his eyes, clenched his fist…and threw his whole fist into the Skull's gut. He literally punctured through the Skull's skin, leaving his fist in the Skull's stomach. The Red Skull screamed in suffering, as he dropped the shield. "This is my chance…and _my_ shield shall be the death of you!" Steve breathed in deeply, and reached for his shield. Leaning backwards, he started to put the swing of the shield in motion. He kicked the Red Skull briefly, to make sure this shot would count. The Red Skull looked up at Steve, and actually saw a serious fury within his eyes. A murderous fury. Steve mustered all his strength, all his power into this one swing. Letting go of the shield, it spun directly in the Red Skull's direction. It was a direct hit, into the Red Skull's torso. The throw was so powerful, that the body of the Red Skull was thrown into the distance, too. Steve collapsed, and began to have serious trouble breathing. He began to blank out, in short bursts. A huge explosion followed, and Steve was almost blinded. Shrapnel flew in all places as flames circled Steve, and even burned most of his legs. Smoke couldn't fill his lungs right now. A burning body appeared, set alight by the most ravaging flames. The Red Skull staggered from the explosion, holding the same pistol. His whole body shook, as his scarred body was enduring the burning fire. The burning sensation was inside of him. He struggled to keep a direct aim, and then decided he got one. You couldn't keep the Skull down, that easily. With one move of the index finger, he fired the gun. The bullet went straight into Steve's left shoulder. Steve couldn't yell in pain, he didn't have the strength too. The Red Skull couldn't smile, his face was that disfigured. His tongue was heavily burnt, so he couldn't speak either. He just staggered closer towards Steve, who was blacking out. A metre or two away from Steve, the Skull actually managed an evil smirk. His torso, then suddenly broke in half before Steve. The upper half of the Red Skull laid beside Steve, as the peering stare of the finally dead Skull still gazed at him. That was the last image he saw, before finally giving into the pain. He closed his eyes, and stopped breathing. There lay Steve's body, battered and bruised…to be soon rescued by Fury himself.

Months later…

"B-Bucky, is that you?" An injured Steve Rogers questioned, lying in a hospital bed. Half of his body was bandaged up, as major burns made their mark on his legs. It had been the first time Steve had woke up since he killed the Skull. His old friend, Bucky…may have been pushing seventy-three, yet he stayed beside Steve everyday. "Did we…kill Schmidt?" Steve questioned. Bucky turned to Steve, in such happiness. "Yes, the Red Skull…is no more. You killed him on that very day, on the Helicarrier. You did it Steve!" Bucky responded. "That's awesome…" Steve spoke, before falling asleep once more. Janet entered the room, alongside Hank Pym. "How is he?" Janet wondered, standing beside the bed Steve laid in. Bucky looked up, "He just woke up. Questioned me about the Skull, and then fell asleep." He answered. Hank was on the other side of the bed, sitting beside Steve. He was his usual self, short brown hair, a sly grin and he still didn't respect Captain America. Hank picked up a box of chocolates given to Steve, and opened the box. Looking at the selection of different flavours, he picked his favourite. "Hank, how dare you. Put them away!" Janet ordered, crossing her arms. "Oh, Jan. Don't be like that, by the time he wakes up again…there'll be out of date. At least someone will enjoy em." Hank replied, as he continued to eat more. "Oh, Steve…please wake up soon…" Janet spoke softly under her breath.

**11 years later**

"I don't know, Jan. Surely Steve suspects something? I doubt it'll be a great idea meeting up this weekend. I'm also rather busy; I've been introduced to this new body enhancing serum these eggheads have been trying out. If it all goes well, I'm helping them introduce it to Fury. Perhaps we can see each other, Monday morning? I have an excellent idea, of where we can have dinner." Hank Pym spoke, over the phone. He was sitting in his lonely apartment in Chicago, leading a partially normal life. Yet he always had an urge to return to science, in his basement now and then. For him, he was rather fortunate. After such a lonely life, an old flame had recently got in contact. She was tired of her married life; she found comfort and relaxation with Hank. This woman, being Steve Roger's wife Janet. She was growing distant from Steve, she couldn't handle the fact they were from different generations. Sure, they spent a lot of time together. Yet this ate Janet up slowly, and she needed a retreat. "Monday morning, sounds fine with me. Will you pick me up?" Janet questioned. She needed this, regardless of her past relationship problems with Hank. She was getting tired of Steve complaining about the television, sick of his clothing, his lifestyle. Hank was Janet's escape.

"What the hell, are you?" A man asked, standing above a body. He face couldn't be seen; the sunlight shadowed his face from above. Yet, the shine of his spectacles could be viewed. He continued to speak, "Your whole body…it's some silver substance. You're either one of Fury's latest freak agents…or, you're an alien. Well…an alien surfer." The man walked up towards the shiny silver board, which the alien known as the Silver Surfer owned. This 'alien' was indeed the Silver Surfer, who had fallen from the skies. His attempt to reach the Earth's atmosphere didn't go so greatly this time round. He landed in a vast desert, an old testing army testing ground. The Surfer was conscious, just a little dazed. The Surfer found himself amongst a lone male, who seemed to live in an extremely secluded hut in the middle of the desert. The man adjusted his glasses, and crouched down towards the Surfer. He was easily recognisable by the Surfer, this man had dirty messy, long brown hair. His stubble almost became a beard, and his clothes…were ragged. The Surfer turned his head to the man, and questioned him. "You're Banner, right?" He wondered. The Surfer placed his right hand on Banner's shoulder. The Surfer was right; this was Bruce Banner crouching beside him. "How do you know my name?" Bruce asked. The Surfer rubbed his forehead, and turned to Banner. "Oh, well you are well known for your past." He replied, finally standing up. Bruce looked aside, in disappointment. "What are you doing here, anyway?" The Surfer asked, brushing the dust from his arms. Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses, and spoke. "This little hut you see before you, it's my escape." He moved his hand in the direction to show the dilapidated hut. "Your escape…?" The Surfer questioned.

Hundreds of miles away, in an old abandoned training facility, thirty-something S.H.I.E.L.D agents stormed in. They all ran in immediately, and stood amongst each other in a straight line. A wooden door opened slightly, and out stepped S.H.I.E.L.D agent Gabriel Jones. He was one of the first of black men to work in an entire white S.H.I.E.L.D community. A trusted friend of Nick Fury, he leaded a small portion of the 'Deltite' super soldiers. The 'Deltite' soldiers were S.H.I.E.L.D's very own collection of Steve Rogers. With the matching DNA, they managed to give these once normal human beings, the strength of Captain America. Gabriel Jones' face couldn't be seen, it was overshadowed by his cap. "Soldiers. You're here today, to neutralise this pest…" He turned, and with his index finger; pointed at a cracked monitor screen. The soldiers stood silent, looking on as a small video began to play. The video itself was of awful quality, most definitely amateur footage. Some of the soldiers squinted, some didn't show many emotions. On the screen, the Silver Surfer was shown. Taking down various agents years ago, so he could gain access towards the files of every known super powered human. The footage cut off when the Surfer noticed it, and then yet another video appeared. It was only a few mere seconds, but it was a shot of the Surfer across the sky above Asia. Gabriel ordered the video to cut off, as he addressed the soldiers with the problem. "We've nicknamed him, 'Silver'. He's been spotted around the world, for the past few months. Our fellow extra-terrestrial agents S.W.O.R.D have ordered us to neutralise this alien foe. Regardless of whatever he intends to bring onto this planet, have it good or bad. In this new world, we don't take chances anymore men. He's powerful, extremely powerful. This is why we need around thirty of you, at your very best. He bizarrely obtains some cosmic power. We'll be equipping with you with these conveniently small jetpacks," Gabriel spoke, whilst displaying the equipment behind him. "We will drop you off, at the point where he turned up on our radars. A few hundred miles from here, this shouldn't take too long to get to in time. Soldiers, prepare yourselves for this." Gabriel finished, as he walked slowly out of the room to be accompanied by someone else. Little did they know, when they would reach the Surfer…the alien wouldn't be their only problem.

"I tell ya, Kang…who the frickin' hell does he think he is?! He arrives at Stark's house. Stark house. My old house. He tells us he's from the future. From the future. Like from the year 3000 or summit. Who the hell, is from the…the, that year? Loser. Hell. What me drinking?" The drunken Tony Stark questioned, rocking back and forth slightly. He sat there, alone. In his 24/7 nightclub, where a certain mechanised barman gave him drinks at the touch of a button. Tony had once again, lost his soul to alcohol. He was a changed man, for definite. Stark enterprises couldn't fund anyone else anymore. Times had changed, no nerdy teenager would idolise Iron Man with tons of posters scattered across their walls. Tony lost most of his friends, who either got hitched, or disappeared. Tony's only ever had one friend nowadays, which he always argued with. That friend being the non-responsive robotic barman. "Well then? What is this?" Tony Stark then collapsed on the floor, in a paralysed state. This poor man had lost it. A door opened, and then the nightclub's music stopped. Dawn Fury walked up towards the paralysed Tony Stark. Dawn Fury, was the blonde haired sister of Nicholas Fury. She didn't have much to do with S.H.I.E.L.D itself, but for some bizarre reason the recent occurrences got her interested. Dawn crouched down, beside Tony Stark. "You've gone off the rails, hun. I'm afraid; methinks we'll need your assistance sometime soon. Something big is coming our way. Not that you can hear me, though. Oh well, let me just take you to your bed. We'll talk when you wake up…" Dawn claimed, picking up the heavy Tony Stark.

We return to the desert, to find the Surfer still speaking with Bruce Banner. "Well, I infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D, and looked into their log files. I know pretty much about your past. Didn't know you were living here, though. They got you down as MIA. Guess you chose a rather secluded place, well done there. It was a surprise I even came across you here on this barren desert." He spoke, looking into the sky. "It's not easy…living with my past. I've killed so many people…wrecked, so many lives." Bruce replied, adjusting his glasses once more. The Surfer placed his right hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Look, forget about the past. Live in the present. No matter what you've done before. You're here now, living a new life." The Surfer said, trying to reassure Bruce Banner. He stopped speaking, and looked into the sky immediately. "Something…isn't right." He murmured, clenching his fists. A slightly small object could be seen falling down at a tremendous rate. Bruce looked up into the sky, yet the sunlight blinded him briefly. "What is it?" Bruce questioned. Before the Surfer could reply, they were hit with an extremely powerful missile. It was a direct hit, engulfing the area in a circle of ravaging fire. From the flames and smoke, miraculously…the Surfer appeared. He was covered in a few flames, yet he didn't seem phased by the explosion or fire. He flew out from the smoke immediately. Circling the crater it created, wondering what had become of Bruce Banner. He squinted; trying to make sure Bruce had actually survived the attack…somehow. As he did so, he didn't recognise the full fleet of super-soldiers behind him. On their jetpacks, equipped with various weaponry. Two of them stopped in midair, metres away from the frantic Surfer. This was rather odd; the Silver Surfer was the herald of Galactus…yet cared deeply for the condition of Bruce Banner. "Excuse me. You're not from this planet, are you?" One of the super-soldiers asked, clenching his fists. He had a slight smirk upon his face; he was ready to punch the Surfer. The Silver Surfer turned around slightly, with an odd expression on his face. Noticing the amount of super-soldiers, he began to worry. Before even being able to move, one super-soldier landed a fatal blow against the face. The Surfer was stunned slightly, as the super-soldiers moved in. Some of them grabbing his limbs to make sure he couldn't move, some even trying to pry the board off his feet. The Surfer became enraged; it was obvious these people had just attacked them with a missile. He struggled, as the strength of each soldier held him back. He couldn't concentrate enough to use his cosmic powers. Yet, he didn't need to worry for much longer. Some soldiers looked down at the smoke below, noticing a strange feeling coming straight from that crater. A few even heard deep growling. "Get out! We've miscalculated our actions. The Surfer wasn't alone; I repeat…the Surfer was accompanied by Bruce Banner!" Gabriel yelled down the earpieces of each soldiers. They stopped attacking the Surfer, who looked confused. "Hey, you've given up already?" The Surfer questioned, looking puzzled. Most of them were in shock. Their jaws dropped, their eyes widened. Before them all, was the savage, brute…incredible, Hulk.

Some of the soldiers retreated a few metres back with the use of their jetpacks. They knew of the horrors the Hulk could accomplish. They knew of his unstoppable brute force. They knew that, they were in trouble. Down below, the unleashed Bruce Banner had spasms in various places. His muscles even throbbed; his whole green body was of such a sheer enormous size. The Surfer had never seen such a sight; he had only seen pictures of the destruction left. Now he could comprehend with how Bruce Banner could create so much damage. The Hulk's green pupil eyes squinted in the sunlight. He gritted his teeth together and cracked his knuckles quickly. Bruce always lost his intelligence when he became the Hulk, something he wished he could keep. So, this latest attack on the Hulk…wouldn't go down lightly. He had already figured out who was to blame. A small part of his memory remembered the Surfer consoling Bruce. With a deep breath, the Hulk was ready to take down the soldiers. Leaping in the air with such ferocity, he managed to gain so much height. The Surfer was shocked, to see this green skinned brute attacking the soldiers. Some fired their weapons, some even screamed. The Hulk was in midair, and threw two soldiers with such a force they came crashing down to the desert ground. The Surfer knew these soldiers would easily be obliterated. As he watched on at Hulk's rampage, he received a rather disturbing message via Galactus' thoughts. His orders were transferred into the Surfer's memory.

"You want me to, dispose of the Hulk being?" The Surfer asked, in a telepathic conversation with Galactus. "Yes. I'm reading his power scale, it's off the charts. Destroy him, before he gets even more powerful. Bruce Banner feeds off his own anger. He will pose as a major threat, a thorn in the side." Galactus replied. The Surfer didn't reply, he disconnected his psychic link with Galactus. He was saddened, he knew disposing of the Hulk…would also kill Bruce. Already, half of the soldiers were killed, or in major pain. Broken bones made the men cringe in pain. Some had blood dripping from their chin. A few were lost in the ground. The Hulk hadn't even finished.

"This is Gabriel, Commander Fury. Requesting back up! This is a major problem, it's about Bruce Banner!" Gabriel yelled down the phone, amongst other agents. This was a serious matter; the Hulk hadn't been unleashed for many years. Gabriel awaited an answer. He didn't receive one from Nick Fury himself. "This is S.H.I.E.L.D agent April, what is your situation?" A woman answered. "This is Gabriel Jones. The Hulk has been unleashed, I repeat. The Hulk is attacking our men!" Gabriel threw the phone aside. He turned to three agents. "We still have the serum here?" He questioned. Gabriel wanted the super-soldier serum; he wanted it running through his veins. One of the agents handed him the briefcase, with the pneumatic injector gun inside. "We ever strengthened the amount?" Gabriel wondered. "In all honesty, we can't. It's not advised you inject it like this, Gabriel…" One agent replied. "My men are dying out there, I ain't gonna sit here and watch the massacre. Drop me down, now." Gabriel ordered, as he reached for the injector. Closing his eyes, he injected himself in the leg. He didn't feel the surge of power as of yet, but it would surely kick in soon enough…

One soldier on the ground had already received a broken arm. "Please…spare me." He said, with a trembling voice. The Hulk looked down on him; he didn't feel the need to speak. Two soldiers crept up behind the Hulk, armed with powerful daggers. Leaping onto his back, they stabbed him in the shoulders. The Hulk did bleed, but didn't receive so much pain. He was angered though, and helped release that frustration by smacking the two soldiers high into the sky. A recorded six super-soldiers were dead. This was frightening; they weren't named super-soldiers for no reason. These were the human beings, with a certain serum inside them which makes them 'perfect'. How could the Hulk kill them so easily? Up from above, the Surfer knew he had to make his unwilling move. He hovered down slowly, amidst the fight. He hovered before the Hulk and three super-soldiers. "Hulk…I can't let you go on…stop killing these men." He ordered. Staring straight into the Hulk's green eyes. The super-soldiers walked up towards the Surfer. "You're not against us?" They questioned. "I'm not here now, for your benefit. Unless you think, otherwise. I need to dispose of this Hulk creature." The Surfer claimed. The Hulk stopped to think, oddly enough, "Silver man…dispose?" He wondered. The Surfer nodded, whilst he decided of how to extinguish the Hulk's rampage. "It's probably for the best. I'm sorry, Bruce." The Surfer claimed, placing himself beside his silver board. The Hulk's eyes widened, those exact words hit his memory like lightening. He saw visions, of his horrendous past. At first, he glimpsed the feeble body of Bruce Banner in his mind. As if, he was watching his own life through someone else's eyes. His first images of his past showed Bruce Banner sealed away, watched upon by many scientists. Holding their clipboards, revising graphs on computers. A woman with shoulder length black hair pressed against the glass. Her face got closer to the bleary eyed Banner. "You've killed many people, Bruce. What these people are doing for you, it's for the best." She spoke, before being pulled away from her lover. The Hulk's mind was filled with yet another memory, before him stood the mighty Captain America. Steve Rogers stood in his Captain America attire, amongst ravaging flames. Iron Man was beaten badly in the background, Hank Pym was knocked unconscious, the Wasp was missing and even Luke Cage was almost dead. The ever powerful Thor stood beside Steve Rogers, who was speaking in front of a dazed Hulk. "This serum, will probably kill you…Bruce, I'm sorry. If it wasn't for you, I may not have lived again…but, I can't let you go on killing more people. Sorry, Bruce Banner." Steve Rogers had just injected the large muscled Hulk with a lethal dose, enough to even kill him. The Hulk had gone on a mighty rampage across Japan, after seeing the love of his life dining with someone else. He had yet again, gone a killing spree. Thankfully, the Avengers stopped him in his tracks. The past thoughts of Hulk seemed to carry on. His mortal enemy, who yielded the same strength of the Hulk, could be seen from such a height. He named himself Abomination, a rival in Bruce Banner's genetic research. This was the Hulk's last major brawl with his worst foe. Bruce was finally rebuilding his life, with his last hope; his cousin Jenny. The Abomination wanted the Hulk's power, and Bruce Banner's intelligence. He succeeded, and plagued Bruce's life for years. Until one day, when the Hulk totalled all of the Abomination's life work. Abomination decided to finally leave his mark on the Hulk. During the last brawl they had, the Hulk was distracted by the opposing human forces. Amidst the foray, Abomination caught Jenny. Looking onto a petrified Hulk, Abomination spoke. With only one arm left, he smiled. "Bruce. If there are any remnants of your intelligent mind in this creature before me, I want you to know…this may be our last conversation. I can't fight you much longer. You've disfigured my face with this hazardous waste; you've ripped off my left arm. You destroyed my life work. I'm left with nothing. This woman I clutch in my hands, was the only person to get you back up to your feet, right? Well, this is for the best…I'll leave my mark on the rest of your pitiful life!" He yelled, before tossing his arm back. With such fury, he threw Jenny hurling into the air. Bruce's own blood, his own cousin was left in the skies. The anger had never filled Bruce's alter ego so much. In a fit of rage, the Hulk pounded into the skull of the Abomination. Without hesitation to leave the monster known as Abomination, dead. All these vast, painful memories filled the Hulk's mind.

Back at the desert, the Surfer still stared at the Hulk. "I'll give you a moment Bruce…" The Surfer spoke. The Hulk actually stood still, as a slight tear appeared. This beast had some emotions left in him. You'd presume that the Hulk would want the Silver Surfer to extinguish his power but he didn't. He felt like living his life should be a punishment, not choosing death as an easy option. The Hulk didn't want this, Bruce probably didn't…either. The Surfer's left hand was raised and his palm was open. He was ready to use his cosmic powers. The super-soldiers still looked on, helping others heal from their wounds. Helicopters swooped by, from above leaving long ropes for the soldiers to grab. It was their official retreat, to regain their strength. This distracted the Surfer, who watched on. After a second or two, the Surfer turned to continue with the Hulk. Within those mere seconds, the Hulk had left. He had leapt into the skies, in some random direction. Knowing he had to get away from the powerful Surfer. Galactus immediately contacted the Surfer via telepathic ways. "He's gone. Leaping great distances. Find him, Surfer. Tracing back his history, he's defeated the mightiest of heroes in his past. We can't lose him…" The Galactus spoke, ordering the Surfer to move. The Surfer leapt onto his board and turned to witness the helicopters swooping off into the distance. A piercing noise of a powerful jet engine could be heard. Above the Surfer, a fighter jet flew by which was obviously attempting to reach the Hulk. The Surfer knew this would only fuel the Hulk's anger. He closed his eyes, as the board hovered. Within a second, he was already flying through the sky. The Surfer was hesitant to make his move, yet knew he had no choice.

The lone pilot of the fighter jet tried to attempt a lock on the ever moving Hulk. Leaping from rock to rock, the Hulk gained great distances with each jump. The pilot was distracted by the figure beside the jet. There beside it, was the Silver Surfer. On his board, turning to the pilot the Surfer made hand gestures to order the pilot to leave the Hulk away. The pilot didn't take any particular interest in what the Surfer was asking. "Well, it's your funeral…" The Surfer thought to himself. He gained some speed to reach the Hulk before the jet did. The Hulk leapt once more, only to stop on a cliff's edge. He began to pant heavily, before seeing the Surfer and the jet behind. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The Surfer hovered in front as the jet flew on by. It was definitely going to return in the opposite direction, but in the meantime the Surfer greeted the Hulk. "Hey, Bruce I'm afraid this may be the last time you'll see me. Now, I want this over and done with before that jet turns back at us…" The Surfer spoke, as he was suddenly rudely interrupted by the sound of a jeep a few metres away. It was Gabriel driving the jeep; who now had the super soldier serum running through him. The jeep's brakes were used vigorously, as it creates a wave of sand that hits the Surfer's eyes. Gabriel stepped out, and slammed the door shut. The Hulk breathed heavily still, as he looked upon Gabriel Jones. The Surfer brushed the sand away from his arms, and questioned Gabriel. "Excuse me, but what's your intention of being here?" He wondered. Gabriel looked at the Surfer, and answered before he reached for his gun. "My name is Gabriel Jones. I command the 'Deltite' super soldiers, of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was commanded to neutralise an alien threat, with the use of my men. Yet, someone intervened and killed a few. That monster who murdered them, being Bruce Banner before us. So, I have two opponents to destroy right now…" Gabriel pointed at the Surfer, and then the Hulk. The Surfer didn't reply to Gabriel, he just smiled softly. The Hulk looked at them both, confused as to what they were speaking about. Yet, he always seemed to pick up on the certain words which would worry Bruce Banner. "Destroy…?" The Hulk wondered. The Surfer knew it was best not to respond, yet Gabriel didn't hesitate too. "Yes, Bruce. Destroy you. Kill you. Rid you of the world, forever. Finally get you off this planet, you miserable waste of gamma radiation." Gabriel said, as he loaded his gun. Surely, a gun wouldn't harm the Hulk…a missile can't even make a slight wound. He pressed the trigger, yet the bullet didn't attempt to penetrate through the Hulk's skin…he fired at the Surfer. The Silver Surfer's telekinetic powers stopped the bullet a few inches before it made a hit through his skull. In that time he concentrated to stop the bullet, he didn't realise Gabriel was already running towards the Hulk. The Hulk gritted his teeth fiercely and clenched his fists. Gabriel leapt into the air, and landed an extremely strong right armed punched across the Hulk's face. The Hulk's anger built up, yet he was shocked to feel a slight pain even from Gabriel. The Hulk stepped back, as Gabriel took another jump. All the Silver Surfer could do in the situation, was watch on. Gabriel reached for a large knife in his left pocket and pulled it out. He stabbed Hulk through the neck, using his left hand. This was the pinnacle for the Hulk. In a burst of such aggression, he literally picked up Gabriel. The Hulk's whole left hand began to crush the bones in Gabriel's body. Whilst this was happening, the Surfer noticed the return of the jet. With a great throw, Gabriel was sent flying through the air. The Surfer noticed what was going to happen. Gabriel would be killed by a collision into the jet. Gabriel actually screamed in pain as he closed his eyes. The main reason why, was because the Hulk actually didn't intend to throw him. The Hulk stood there confused, holding the left arm of Gabriel. He opened his eyes, only to witness the jet flying towards him. So, he closed his eyes. Within a few seconds, he collided straight into the fighter jet. A large explosion followed, which was easily the death of Gabriel Jones. The fighter jet had been destroyed, and Gabriel had been killed. The explosion filled the Hulk with a passion he always felt whilst he was on a rampage. Seeing ultimate destruction, he always wanted to create more.

The Silver Surfer was shocked, to say the least. He walked up beside the Hulk, and commented on his actions. "You see, that's the kind of power you have. That's why I need to get rid of you, unfortunately. Bruce Banner, you're a great person…I'm…sorry." He claimed. The Surfer closed his eyes and rose up his right palm. He turned his arm to the direction of the Hulk. "Please forgive me in the afterlife…" He thought. The Hulk turned to the Surfer, which was the last thing he'd ever see. The Surfer used his cosmic powers, and made the whole area around him flash. The Surfer had to close his eyes, as the Hulk was levitated into the air. He was angered, confused. The Hulk was immobile, he couldn't move a muscle. Yet, he felt a strange pain within his muscles. The colour of the Hulk changed, he even turned grey. The Hulk had never felt so much psychical pain before, which is saying a lot. The Hulk yelled in pain, and then finally…the Hulk was no more. He had disappeared, the Hulk was vaporised into thin air. Bruce Banner was taken alongside his alter ego. The threat which once plagued the planet Earth had gone; forever. Nothing was left of the Hulk, or Bruce. The Surfer collapsed onto his knees on the cliff side, all alone. He felt drained; the Surfer used too much cosmic power to extinguish the Hulk. He completed the mission, so he climbed up onto his surfboard. It floated into the air slowly, before disappearing into the sunset…

One week later.

There he lay in his hospital bed. Tubes all connected into his body, to keep this man alive. He was found in an extremely bad shape, with one arm missing. His face was unrecognisable, due to the bruises and cuts. This recovering man was none other than Gabriel Jones. He hadn't died during the jet incident, yet survived to recuperate in a hospital bed. In this exact hospital, Gabriel was going to see an unexpected visitor. At the hospital desk stood a familiar man, a well known man. He wasn't wearing his trademark eye patch over his left eye. Considering the advances in today's technology, the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D had a techno organic left eye. No need for a patch, as this new technologically advanced eyesight helped in various ways. He stood in front of the desk, and questioned whether they had a 'Gabriel Jones' in the recovery ward. They did, and directed him to that exact ward. He also questioned about another man, yet couldn't be heard over the noise commotion about some shocking news on the television set. Nick Fury sighed to himself, and walked down the corridor.

As Gabriel rested, the curtains were drawn. Fury stood beside Gabriel. "My, you look a mess Jones. How are you coping?" He questioned. Gabriel couldn't speak all too well, yet the look in his eyes gave Fury a feeling of guilt. Fury was holding some documents, and sat beside Gabriel. "Once I heard what happened…there was an overwhelming bad feeling. This is partly, my fault…" Fury claimed. He was about to hand these documents to Gabriel, only to realise he only had one hand left. Fury smiled slightly, and then opened the documents. "You're going to hate me even more, for this. We have a serious problem, with the Silver Surfer matter." He shuffled through a few photos of the Surfer, to come across satellite pictures of Bruce Banner's last transformation. "We knew of the utter destruction this Silver Surfer was capable of. We actually knew…for years. We came across data stored on alien technology, about some 'planet devourer'. We even had records of some unknown African tribe that worshipped 'The Surfer'. Look, here are some pictures of the paintings they made. Bizarrely enough, they even created monuments. This was a rather obscure religion from these Africans, yet we had tons of information on this attack. S.H.I.E.L.D or S.W.O.R.D didn't act upon these mere worries. Until a month ago, when we finally decided to take action. Unfortunately, it was too late. Reed Richards can't be contacted anymore, after his wife had filed in the divorce papers. I'm sure you're not really concerned about that…" Fury finished, and awaited the slightest response. "Look, Jones. I apologise for this, it's mainly my fault. I should have acted a lot sooner. You wouldn't be here, if it weren't for me. Considering you've been a long, trusting friend…I'll will get that alien. Bruce Banner couldn't be blamed; we all know this was an unfortunate mistake. It came out of the blue. A mistake which was created by the presence of the alien, Silver Surfer. I've already ordered you an extra arm, to be grafted onto your shoulder within this week. I hope you can forgive me, Jones. I'll leave these documents behind, if you want to chase up this case. We'll be awaiting your return." Fury finished, and placed the documents beside his desk. "I'm sorry they aren't flowers…" Fury spoke, as he walked out.

As he shuffled through his pockets down the hallway, he heard the faint sound of his voice coming from one ward. Fury stood there, just to make sure it was his name he could actually hear. So, once he clarified that; he stepped into the ward beside Gabriel's. It was none other, than the badly bruised and scarred Bruce Banner. He lay there in the hospital bed, with various tubes plugged into him. His left eye opened slightly, to stare at Nick Fury. "Banner…We thought you were dead. How the hell are you?" Fury questioned, shuffling his coat. "My glasses…are they beside me?" Banner wondered. Fury stepped closer, to hand over Banner's glasses. "Thanks," Bruce spoke, as he could see clearer now. "My, you've changed Fury. Where's the eye patch gone?" Banner questioned. Fury smiled, and then replied. "Oh, it's a surgical tech implant. Like it?" Fury asked. "Not really. I prefer you with the eye patch. It gives you more of an edge, in my opinion." Banner answered. Fury turned to look at Banner's charts. "This is a funny coincidence. Gabriel Jones is in the ward down the corridor…he wouldn't be best pleased to know the man that ripped off his arm is a mere few metres away." Fury said. Bruce turned to the window, "Fury. I need to say something…it's about, the Hulk."

Fury sat down and listened intently. "That alien being, has immense powers. All my life I had tried to find a cure, for my transformation. Without this alien breaking a sweat, he completely tore the monster apart. I'm worried, Fury. Before the Hulk was killed off, I felt myself actually speaking to it. It warned me, the Hulk being…was actually scared…"

MacDonald Gargan, I never knew the guy personally. He doesn't seem to have any well known relations. Apparently, Mac was working in the printing factory by the port. Oh, I've made sure. The guy has no relatives, whatsoever. Poor guy, I guess that means nobody will miss him. Searching through his crime history, I was shocked to realise this guy was one of Spider-man's old villains, none other than the Scorpion. I remember him rather well, walked around in some green costume. He was quite the villain for ol' Spider-man, with that stinging tail. Yet he retired from all that, years ago. Looks like he destroyed all evidence of his past life. Yet, if he decided to live a different way…surely no one would hold a grudge for this much time. So then, I wonder…why was MacDonald Gargan just found outside his apartment, murdered?


	2. Chapter 2 Part of the Deal

**Chapter 2: Part of the deal**

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" A strange figure questioned, beside his lover. His lover didn't respond, she actually really couldn't anyway. On the dusty red planet of Mars sat two lovers. They were sitting rather comfortably, enjoying the view…of red mountains. The being that offered his lover a cup of tea, was none other than the ever powerful Thanos. An Eternal being who was banished from his home world just for being too much for his relations to handle. Thanos had purple-grey skin, hide-like skin and a rather large body. He sat on a chair wearing some sort of blue robes. Thanos began to pour the tea into his lover's cup. "You hear of what the mighty Silver Surfer has been getting his self up to?" Thanos questioned. Yet again, his lover showed no response. This was probably because she had no flesh, no eyes, no tongue…nor a heart. She sat beside Thanos in a long black cloak, and her boned hand picked up the cup filled with warm tea. She attempted to sip the tea, yet she ended up spilling it all over her cloak. She wasn't clumsy; she just had no flesh or muscle around her jaw to make sure she couldn't spill any liquids. This 'woman', whom Thanos loved, was the morbid Death. Her face was actually of a skull, yet she had a body which resembled a healthy, fit living female being. Thanos looked at his lover, then at his warm tea. "Galactus is planning to use the planet Earth as his next meal, Death." Thanos spoke. Death turned her head to Thanos, to imply she was listening; somehow. "You realise whom his herald is? He's none other than the cosmic surfer, Norrin Radd. Galactus has claimed the Silver Surfer as his herald, yet he serves me." Thanos said, "You know what I did?" He questioned. He paused for a few moments to continue speaking, "Yes, that's right. I'm interrupting the mighty planet devourer's plans. You remember Nova? Lovely chap. We had a picnic with the fellow on the planet Ratallian. If your mind serves you well, he didn't really attend the picnic. It's not his sort of thing. Perhaps Ratallian is too peaceful for him, who knows. Well, let's just say he's on the planet Earth messing around with Galactus' intentions. I don't mind Earth, there is a select few of humans which I'd love to make conversation with. Well, here's to wrecking Galactus' plans." Thanos said, raising his small cup of tea in the air. Death turned away from Thanos, and then continued to sip her tea.

There he lays, MacDonald Gargan. Cause of death? No one can really tell. No bullets or bullet wounds. Ugh, I dislike autopsies. Yet, I need to stand here and gather the information I need. It'll help solve this murder. No use of drugs, there's not a trace in his bloodstream. He's had no record of alcoholism, regardless of the times he was beaten by Spider-man. There isn't a single wound across his whole body; he doesn't have any bruises either. I'm confused, that's for sure. Guess not as much as the people doing this autopsy, they're lost. They haven't had such a confusing death for years.

"Sorry I'm late, folks. I got caught up by the awful traffic. I'm sure my wife, gave you the appropriate coursework last week?" A man in his early forties, questioned. He wore an old chequered sweatshirt and beige trousers. His hair was brown, and his eyes were of the same colour. Today, he found himself late to the lesson he was teaching. Not entirely the best way to start with his new class, which was taken by his wife for the past two years. He opened his briefcase and pulled out various papers. One classmate questioned about the coursework, "How is Miss Stacy doing?" The young blonde haired pupil asked. The teacher of the class looked up, and replied "Oh, she's doing just fine. She's still in bed enjoying her breakfast, though." This teacher of theirs was Peter Parker. He had been teaching, away from the superhero life for way over ten years. Gwen Stacy, was his wife; for over seven years. She used to be a teacher, teaching drama. Peter was living a happy life; he held his battered and torn costume up in his own private memorabilia room. In that room, lay his red and blue classic costume, sand from Flint Marko, various action figures, a defused pumpkin bomb, Wade Wilson's utility belt, Kraven's spear and even a small jar, encased with the black symbiotic liquid. Peter would relive the glory days back then, by probably messing around with his famed figures. Surely, something Gwen never really witnessed. Just before he was ready to begin the lesson (forty minutes late) there was a knock on the door. Four knocks, someone was intent on telling Peter something. He welcomed the person in, by opening the door. Peter was shocked by the man standing before him, David North. "Maverick…what the hell?" Peter questioned. David North stood in front of Peter Parker; it was obvious these two people had a past. Peter named David North with the alias, Maverick. Possibly a name he hasn't heard in years. David has gelled black hair and blue eyes. He still had the scars from his previous life, as the CIA operative 'Maverick'. Spider-man and Maverick had met several times on occasions, not on the best of terms. "Pete, I realise this may not be the best time to inform you about this but I would like to ask if you could step out from your lesson." David asked, closing the door for Peter. "What is it? We haven't met in years…" Peter said, even with a slight smile on his face. Seeing anyone from his past life always flicked a switch inside of him. "It's about MacDonald Gargan…" David spoke, placing his left hand on Peter's shoulder. They both walked down the corridor as David explained the former Scorpion's death. It was as if David felt he could get some information on MacDonald's death from Parker, yet so far…he wasn't receiving much information.

Moments later, Peter sat outside the college on the steps alongside David. The wind blew their hair, as they both looked in different directions, still speaking to each other. "It's shocking, David. I didn't expect Mac to disappear like this. He was a nice guy, y'know. He was one of those villains that always loved the use of lasers, chasing me around New York. I can't understand why anyone would want to kill him, especially if he's retired from the villainy lifestyle." Peter spoke, checking his pockets for a few notes. David watched the children in the cars on the steps beside, as he replied. "Well, there are no records of any deaths he committed whilst he was the Scorpion. I still can't put my finger on the reason he was murdered." Peter sighed to himself, "Yeah, as wreckless and dim-witted as he was…deep down, Mac was just an average guy with a small vendetta against me. Murdering was the symbiote's job." David stood up, and breathed deeply. "I honestly visited to see if you knew anything on Mac's recent doings. Yet, it's nice to catch up Petey." David claimed. Peter raised himself up and stretched. "Sorry I couldn't give you any information, David. I haven't heard anything from my past arachnid life. Of course me and Gwen still visit Harry, at the institute," Peter placed his hand out to shake David "It was nice seeing you though, David. You still keep up with the Maverick life?" Peter finished. "I have an urge to don the mask now and then, but I've finished with that. You hear that they sued Luke Cage, for acting as a superhero? All he did was rescue two men from a burning building, but they didn't want Mr bullet proof's assistance. They believed S.H.I.E.L.D would save them, and preserve their burning homes. God…I hate S.H.I.E.L.D nowadays." David walked down the steps and turned round. Peter waved goodbye to him, as did David. They both walked their separate ways, clueless whether or not they'd meet each other soon again.

It seemed like David wasn't the only one of the case of MacDonald Gargan's death. He sat back in his large leather chair, beside his legal documentations. One file had recently been dropped off beside his desk. Framed photos of families surrounded his workmate's desks, he only had one. A red framed picture of a blonde woman standing beside him was placed by some various pens and a warm cup of coffee. Problem was, this man never laid his eyes upon this photo. He just had the comfort of various people telling him what a lovely couple they are. This was the famous visually impaired lawyer, Matt Murdock. The file before the blind man was of MacDonald Gargan's death. All about his autopsy and his past life…and the intriguing news that he was importing certain cargo with an old ally, Morris Bench. Certainly, this wouldn't be considered a pressing matter, but when you search the files for Morris Bench you'll realise he almost drowned the prison officers at Ryker's Island whilst attempting an escape. He was the super powered, Hydro-Man. So when two old Spider-man foes start to secretly meet, obviously word gets around. Whether or not these were dolls of Spider-man, or top secret genetics…it didn't matter, something was happening. Someone sat beside Matt, and sipped on his coffee slightly. "Please don't do that…" Matt asked. His friend stopped the sipping of the warm coffee, and slowly placed the mug down. "Foggy, you know I always notice you drink my coffee, every morning around eleven. Seriously, get your own coffee…the machine is a few metres away." Matt said, rather muddled in this new development to Gargan's death. His friend Foggy took a small biscuit beside the coffee mug instead and began to eat that. "You seem uptight today, Matt. Nothing new, I guess…but something's wrong." Foggy claimed, as crumbs dropped from his mouth. "MacDonald Gargan is dead…" Matt spoke, leaning back in his chair. "Gargan?" Foggy wondered, looking around the desk for more food. "Yeah, he is formerly known as the Scorpion. He's had ties with Morris Bench recently, who you probably know as Hydro-Man." Matt said, yawning. "Oh no, I'm taking these documents off you. Super-villains? Perhaps they've been meeting for lunch, and they're remembering the good days. Or, they just might be creating a new super laser for the man of Hell's Kitchen! Matt, those days are over…long gone. They're. Isn't. Super-Villains. Anymore." Foggy spoke, trying to pry the documents off the desk. Matt placed his hand firmly on them, "Something's wrong, Foggy…and I need to investigate into this." Foggy shrugged and turned around, looking out the window of the busy workplace. "You're not a detective, you're a lawyer. Oh, one more thing…Matt. You're not a superhero anymore, either…" Those words struck a chord in Matt's mind. Perhaps he hadn't donned the Daredevil mask for some while; even years. Perhaps he hadn't cared for the streets of Hell's Kitchen but it didn't mean, the superhero inside of him had left…

A few hours hour later, in the harsh pouring non-stop rain was Matt Murdock. He hadn't any need for an umbrella. The raindrops made everything around him clear, Matt loved the rain. So, he obviously took his time walking home. Police cars zoomed by, at speeds. They were trying to catch criminals, yet it didn't grab Matt's attention. The sound of sirens were fulfilling on boring nights, alone around this city. Matt used to get a slight thrill, knowing he could bring justice as the Daredevil. It only took a few minutes for Murdock to reach his apartment, so he turned and enjoyed a few moments standing still in the rain. After some while, he reached his apartment to his loving wife; Karen Page. Taking off his drenched coat, he walked into the living room. He already heard the television set down the corridor from his apartment room. Karen, his blonde, green eyed wife was watching the television set. She was wrapped up in her dressing gown, which was silky. "Hey hun…" Matt said, walking into the kitchen. Karen didn't reply, she just turned the volume of the television set louder. "Matt, you should see this…" Karen spoke softly, huddling up to herself. It was a news broadcast, and a rather saddening death had been reported. Even though there was a death reported, it helped place a piece into the puzzle of Gargan's death. The news broadcaster spoke, "We have just had recent news that the loved family man known as Frank Payne has died. He was rushed into hospital around two hours ago, attempting to survive a brutal murder attempt. His wife and children stayed beside him, as he unfortunately…died. Frank Payne, was a well known man around New York. His previous reputation may have been the villainous Constrictor…nonetheless, this man found love in a woman, and two recently born children. Payne was a genius, a loved man. Getting rid of his demons and costume, Payne raised money for hundreds of charities. He even starred in his own reality show. He was born on January 14th 1979, and died on this day. Frank Payne, will be missed man. His wondrous wellbeing shall be missed by many. To the family and relatives of Frank, our condolences go out to you." The news broadcaster finished, and the weather followed shortly. Karen turned the television set off, and turned to Matt. "You fought the guy a couple of times, didn't you?" Karen asked. Matt nodded, "Well, almost everyone had a run in with the Constrictor. He was a great person…" Matt didn't finish his sentence in reply to Karen's question. The phone rang, and Karen turned to pick it up. After a few seconds, she told Matt it was for him. Passing the phone to Matt, he was surprised to hear a familiar voice. "Matt, its Peter…I'm guessing you've heard about Payne. This is too shocking, I only spoke to Payne yesterday…"

Peter sat on his comfy sofa, beside his wife Gwen. He looked outside, watching the rain pour down heavily. At this present moment, he was on the phone to Matt Murdock. They were discussing the recent news, as Gwen left the room to pick up a different phone call. Gwen answered the phone, and then stepped back into the living room. She brushed her blonde hair back, telling Peter there was a phone call for him. "Petey…its David, he says it's important." Gwen sat beside her husband, watching the television set. "Matt, can you hold one second please? David North is on the other line…" Peter asked politely, picking up the other phone call. "Peter, this is all too much a coincidence. Gargan, and then Payne? Something isn't right. I know it's only two deaths, but I can't help but think these attacks are related." David assumed. "Well, Matt agrees. He's came across some interesting information. You might want to meet us later, about it…" Peter said, so as they continued talking they arranged to meet up later that night…

The rain was still pouring down heavily, murky puddles covered the streets. A figure in a large cloak stepped rather quickly into a bar, and then shook off the rain water. He sat down, and ordered some drink. He awaited other people, as he sipped his alcoholic beverage. The atmosphere of the bar was like any other, loud and rowdy. This man was the scarred David North. He checked his watch, as it seemed two men he was meeting were late. David had already met Peter Parker recently, but the recent news which was broadcast some hours ago about Frank Payne's death meant for a get together. They definitely weren't celebrating any of these mysterious deaths; they were delving into this mystery. Peter was the first to arrive, as his eyes searched the bar. He noticed David, and sat beside him. "Hey, David. How are things?" Peter asked. "Not too bad, want anything to drink? It's on me." David replied. Peter shook his head; he'd drink when Matt Murdock would appear. Even so, he wouldn't touch much alcohol. "I don't like the looks of this place, David…" Peter claimed, looking at the door hoping that Matt would appear soon. "How do you mean?" David questioned, as he swung back the whole glass of vodka. "That guy over there, look's like he's from the Wrecking Crew of yesteryear…" Peter answered. "Oh, it is. You'll probably find most of the people in here drinking and playing pool were villains you used to run into. Take Hyde over there, he's still big as ever…yet he's deciding what song should be played on the old jukebox." David said, ordering yet another drink. Peter didn't reply, and finally decided to have a small drink. Peter only had a small beer and didn't plan on drinking anymore. "Have we already started drinking without me?" A well known voice spoke. Peter and David turned to see the blind lawyer known as Matt Murdock stand before me. Matt shook both of their hands to greet them and sat beside Peter's right side. "What will it be?" The barman asked Matt. "Just the usual…" Matt said. Peter turned to Matt, "The usual?" He wondered. "Yeah, I come here often…share drinks with Stiltman." Matt answered. Peter stared at Matt, rather confused with what he had just heard. "What? It's a different life nowadays Pete." He said, responding to Peter's body language. Peter shook his head, "Not for me, guys." David North had already finished his third glass of straight vodka, "How d'ya mean, Parker?" He wondered. Peter hesitated, and then spoke. "Basically, Spidey's life still haunts me. I have nightmares, y'know…of the more sinister villains I came across. For instance, the name Cletus Cassidy would still send a chill down my spine." Peter finished, finally ordering a drink…orange juice. "Past life still haunts you?" Matt Murdock questioned. David North had got through almost four full glasses of straight vodka and asked for more. "To be fair, Murdock…Parker had it the worst out of all of us." North claimed, downing the next glass. Peter turned to them both, "David, why are you drinking so much?" He asked. David North looked at his glass, yet didn't answer Peter. Matt Murdock played with his cuffs, and then answered Parker's question. "North reckons something terrible is beckoning. These murders are a part of something, a lot bigger. He also says it's something we may not be able to comprehend." Peter looked down at his orange juice, "Well I guess that means it's time to hit the harder stuff…"

Hours and many drinks later, they still sat around in the bar. Most had left, and it was getting pretty late. All three were reminiscing their old times, as Matt remember the time the Owl attacked him. "…so there he was, actually dressed up in an owl costume. I actually didn't know this, Foggy told me…yet still, what kind of person dresses up as an _owl_?" Murdock wondered. They all laughed, as David finally mentioned he must be off. "Ah, yeah…Gwen must be worried. I can never seem to perform when I've had a few drinks." Parker mentioned. David North laughed and then questioned what he just said. "Oh, I mean spinning webs…guys. What the hell did you think?"

They all left and gone their separate ways, Peter went back home to his wife, David North decided to hit a late night gym to sober up and Matt Murdock trailed home in the dark. It was quite a long walk home for Murdock, and he knew something weren't right as he left the bar. Using his stick to guide his way, he stopped suddenly. The streets were empty around this time; just a few homeless people strayed in the alleyway. Matt stopped, "I may be blind, but I realise you're following me…" Matt spoke. There was an eerie silence, as he awaited a response. His senses were razor sharp yet Murdock couldn't get an exact idea on what was following him. He didn't know if it was a murderer, or _the_ murderer of Gargan and Payne and it may have even been the Owl, overhearing his conversation earlier. Murdock was betting his money on the fact it was Gargan and Payne's murderer. Considering he was intrigued by the case, he wasn't surprised that someone would be interested in stopping that intrigue. Matt continued walking as he didn't receive any response. Murdock had walked past the Daily Bugle already, so he was almost home. Yet he couldn't shake the thought that someone was following him. "Right, I'm almost home…whoever you are, just show your face." Matt Murdock waited yet again, yet the atmosphere was empty. Not a single sound could be heard, and Murdock's senses could notice a pin drop in a crowded New York street. Matt continued to walk, yet his muscles tightened. He couldn't move his right leg; trying as hard as he could…it bizarrely wouldn't budge. Matt panicked; he couldn't move parts of his body. Out of nowhere, a voice entered his mind telepathically. "I'll give you a fighting chance…Daredevil." The voice spoke. Matt looked around him, as the voice repeated itself in a darker tone. He knew he had to move, so he chose to run down an alleyway. He ran over an old homeless man's food from the dustbins, trying to get away from this mysterious force. Matt Murdock, was known as the Daredevil…the Daredevil, was known as the man without fear. This night, was all too different. Some extreme power could actually immobilise Murdock, and even mentioned he'd give him a fighting chance. Sure, enemies of Daredevil would normally say that…but Matt couldn't feel a heartbeat for ages away. Murdock used his cane to grab onto the wet ladder, and began to climb it to the rooftops. He had reached the rooftops in no time, yet stood there silently. Matt tried to sense the presence of this being…still, with no luck. The voice spoke once more, in Matt's mind. "Come on Murdock. Run. Like you've never ran before." Matt Murdock turned quickly, running on the rooftops over puddles and rubbish. He leaped over one building, and then shortly to the other. His suit was slowing him down, as he threw away his jacket in the foray. He took a giant leap and almost missed one building, clutching onto the edge. Murdock pulled himself up and began to run once more. He didn't know whether he could stand against this unknown foe…but was he going to risk it? Certainly not. He stupidly tripped over something and fell straight to the ground of the building. It had been too long since Matt Murdock scoured the rooftops. The murky puddle messed his suit, but that was the least of his worries…for someone stood before him. Matt tried to catch his breath as he stood up.

Obviously Matt didn't know what he looked like, but this character was silhouetted by the light. He wore an expensive looking tailor made suit which was black. He had a purple tie, and looked rather formal. His eyes glowed white bizarrely, and his hair was long and blonde. The blonde hair reached his eyebrows. He had an evil smirk upon his face, upon his yellow tinted skin. "Do you know a certain, Marc Spector? If I recall, you two were long time friends in Hell's Kitchen, right? Poor fellow." He laughed sinisterly. "What have you done…to Marc?" Murdock asked, coughing. "Oh, he's not dead. I just severed his left leg, and left the fellow to bleed to death in a rat infested sewer. He might actually be eaten before he loses enough blood." He claimed, sniggering. "He didn't give much of a fight, to be honest. The famed Moon Knight was a disappointment." Murdock stumbled further, "Why have you attacked Marc?" He asked. This being answered as he looked at his bloodied hand, "No one ever liked Spector, apart from you. I did the area a favour. He still acts like a superhero. He needed to adjust, and get with the times." Matt coughed even more, "Get with the times?" The character continued to aggravate Murdock, "Yeah, superheroes. It's rather unfashionable nowadays. I mean come on, swinging across buildings in a blue and red costume is so nineties, don't you reckon?" "So you mean its right for you to kill these people? The ones that get a thrill, that adrenaline rush when they fight for the good of the world?" Murdock continued. "Good of the world? Goodness me, even you're deluded. I expected better from you, Murdock. You're a lawyer." The being snapped his fingers, and without a single drop of sweat appearing…threw Murdock aside telepathically. "You have no right being here!" Murdock yelled with his left fist in the air. "Oh, please. I'm not going to be threatened by a blind man. Super senses? You would've noticed I had followed you into the bar beforehand, if you had 'super senses'." He was actually floating in mid-air, a few inches off the ground as he spoke to Matt. "What do you want here?!" Matt shouted in anger, reaching for his Billy club. "You're gonna attack me with _that_ thing? I'll tell you what I'm doing here, it's not like you're going to be able to tell anyone in the morning," He boasted, turning around to face the moon. "I'm a cosmic being. I've been called upon by a higher order, to dispose certain possible threats across the world. They call me Nova." The cosmic being so called Nova turned back to Murdock. Before him actually stood Murdock, clutching his billy club. Without hesitation, Murdock landed a striking blow across Nova's face. Nova stumbled slightly, taking a few steps back. He wasn't hurt, regardless of how much strength was put into that one blow. Nova was actually shocked someone hit him; no being had ever touched Nova since he became a cosmic being. "You shouldn't have done that…" Nova claimed, touching the pink blood that appeared by his lip. Nova was enraged, he couldn't comprehend with the fact he didn't anticipate Murdock's move. "You're brave. A brave idiot, that is." Nova laughed, grabbing Murdock by the neck. "Try and land a hit on me now, go on." He continued, with a sinister grin. Matt struggled to breathe as he grabbed onto Nova's arms. "Feel that? That's me continuing to add pressure on your neck; I could break it if I want to. Yet, I want to give you a fighting chance." Nova loosened his grip and dropped the coughing Matt Murdock. "Do you feel different when you don the red devil mask?" Nova questioned. "When I'm against alien scum like yourself, not really. I still feel great about beating them." Murdock stood tall, and attacked with a punch. Nova dodged the attack and grabbed his wrist; with a slight twist he snapped the bone. Murdock yelled in pain, as he knew he couldn't use his right hand anymore. Nova sniggered to himself, as he kicked Matt in the stomach. Murdock was winded and stepped back a bit. Nova walked up to him in a few strides, kicking him once more. Murdock fell to the ground in agony. Each hit left Murdock in severe pain, Nova had incredible strength. As he lay on the ground, he used his left foot to swipe Nova off his feet. Unfortunately, with little effect. "I'm getting tired of this, Murdock…" Nova claimed, levitating Daredevil once more; only to punch him across the face. Matt Murdock was lying on the edge of the roof as Nova stood before him. Blood trickled down his face as he looked upon Nova's creepy expression. Nova titled his head and examined his body, "You haven't taken that much of a beating. Surely you can hurt me…" Murdock didn't hesitate to stand, clenching his left fist. With a sudden strike across Nova's face, Matt almost collapsed. "That's the Daredevil I've heard about!" Nova laughed, as his eyeball began to bleed. "Are we angry, Murdock? I killed many of pathetic wannabes, wanting to relive their past lives. It needed to be done. Take Marc Spector for instance, who needs him? He's better off dead now anyway!" Nova laughed sinisterly. Matt couldn't bear listening to Nova for much longer, as his hits showed. He kicked Nova in the gut with all his strength, elbowed him in the face for all of those he had murdered and kicked him so hard it hurt Matt probably as much as it hurt Nova. Nova stumbled backwards, clutching his hair. With one hand pulling on his hair, as the other was raised up in the air. The right hand which was lifted emitted a strange glow. "I would say I'm sorry…but in all honesty, I'm not. Goodbye, Murdock!" Nova yelled. Matt was levitated once more, higher than Nova. He then hovered up towards Matt, speaking right to his face. "All these villains getting together. It needed to be sorted. Fast. All of those pathetic ex-heroes trying to rekindle their love for fighting for the greater good? It just makes me laugh…" Nova snarled, as he spat in Matt's face. A grotesque act, but not for Nova. Matt felt fear strike in his heart, his own feint heartbeat couldn't be heard by even his ears. Matt was now being levitated above a small alleyway; he was rather high up in the air by Nova's grasp. "As I once said, so long Murdock. Goodbye, Daredevil!" Nova screamed using his mental abilities to thrust Matt. Murdock was falling at a tremendous speed, as the wind ruffled his torn suit. There was no escaping this attack; Nova's powers overcame Murdock like a giant crushing a fly. It was strange, so much noise seemed to attract little attention and Murdock needed that attention, he needed help. He landed in rubbish, tons of it. Some of that rubbish being broken glass, and rotting food. Matt was lost, his senses couldn't guide him. His head felt like it had been crushed, some of his bones were certainly broken. He coughed blood and tried to move his left arm…with no success. The area around him began to feel warm, _too_ warm. Matt began to worry even more, ignoring the fact a piece of glass was lodged into his knee. The metal that surrounded him began to burn…something was most definitely wrong. He concentrated hard enough, to feel the vibrations in the sky above him, trying to pick out the sounds. He then noticed Nova was laughing from above, watching his imminent death…as the waste bin he laid in, exploded. Matt's lifeless body flung from the fire, landing on a few murky puddles. Nova landed beside him to check on his condition. Picking him up Nova clarified that Murdock had stopped breathing…

The morning after, outside the Baxter Building

"Look, I'm rather preoccupied right now. No. Yes. Well I guess I knew this was going to happen. Jones is going through a rough time right now. What do you mean that's no excuse?" Nick Fury was standing in his long brown coat right outside the Baxter Building, speaking to someone over the phone. As he spoke, he had a cigar in his mouth. Fury was outside here today, to meet Reed Richards. A man that once marvelled in the reality we lived in, yet who now lost that grip of reality completely. It was probably because after three years of marriage, Sue and Reed divorced. They even had a son together, yet Sue had grown apart from her lover. Nowadays though, Sue is living with Namor and they're happily living together. Obviously, this messed up even Reed's mind. His non-stop fascination with being a hero and technology was what Sue was never too fond of. She clamoured for attention from her lover, yet being alone in bed whilst Reed worked on the latest space probe all night didn't help. Fury needed help on the situation of the new aliens, and hoped Reed could possibly help him. At this moment though, he was receiving a rather unpleasant phone call. "You're lying to me, I'll pretend I didn't hear this and cut you off. Gabriel did that? I won't, and don't believe you. With his new techno arm? Woman, I just can't comprehend with this...you're telling me Bruce Banner was murdered by Gabriel Jones?" Fury took a moment, and then continued "What's happened to Jones? Locked up already, in an S.H.I.E.L.D safe house? Heh, the actual place he once worshipped. This is disheartening, Banner was a good man…so was Jones, guess he got corrupted by the Hulk. Right, thanks for the information…I'll arrange the man's funeral, hopefully some people will come along." Fury finished the call and walked into the Baxter Building. "I'm here to meet Reed Richards; I believe he's got a meeting with me for this morning at eleven." Fury spoke, to a woman behind a desk. She was a secretary, yet not a busy looking one. "Yeah, you do. He doesn't get many visitors nowadays. Just take the lift to the twenty-first floor." She answered, before blowing on her painted nails. Fury sighed to himself as he stepped down the long corridor to reach the elevator.

The large doors opened, to a vast room. Enormous windows surrounded this room as the sunlight poured in. "No…that's not right. The portal needs to be opened more securely!" yelled a man in a long lab coat, crouched over sitting his desk. He was scanning blueprints and read pages and pages of information on the so called Negative Zone. This man was none other than the famous Reed Richards. When you mention him as being famous, he's the kind of z-list celebrity opted to be on the next celebrity reality show. He was a lost man lost in all of his work. Losing his wife hit him hard, harder than he'd thought. Fury stepped up towards him, walking past various large contraptions. "Reed, it's me Fury. How are you?" He questioned, standing before him. Reed Richards threw the blueprints aside in frustration. "Hi Fury. I'm sorry the place is a mess…" Richards replied frantically. "Hey, I'm not a relative concerned of your living conditions Reed. I'm here for more pressing matters." Fury claimed, sitting down in a large leather chair by Reed's desk. "Such as?" Richards wondered, picking up the blueprints he just threw. Fury reached into his jacket to pull out a large file, and a memory stick. "What do you know about a certain alien, known as the Silver Surfer?" Fury questioned. Reed started pressing on the button of his pen concerned about the question he was just asked. "I know a fair bit, not enough. Why do you ask?" He sipped on some tea, only to find out it was terribly cold. "We've got a bit of a problem. The Silver Surfer, as we know him…had been spotted across the world for the past few years. No up close and personal shots, just awful home video quality pictures. Satellites even caught glimpses of the character. We didn't think much of it; we were dealing with other issues than flying aliens on surfboards. Until just recently, when he infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D somehow gathering up tons of classified information…" Reed interrupted Fury, "So, he stole some details…what's he going to do with a few documents? Make a handbook of every well known super-powered person and make money out of it?" Fury shook his head. "Reed, you're more intelligent than this. You know I wouldn't arrive here unless it's important." Fury claimed. "True, you haven't even sent any Christmas cards for the past couple of years." Reed joked, pouring the cold tea into a dying plant beside him. "Richards, end it now. Bruce Banner, is dead." Fury said sternly. Reed's eyes widened, "Banner is dead?" He questioned. "Yes, it involved the Silver Surfer. One of my most trusted men Gabriel Jones, lost most of his Deltite soldiers in a fight between the Hulk, the Silver Surfer and him. Bruce turned into the Hulk, due to the Silver Surfer being there. After all of this, Gabriel was left in hospital with a missing arm and the Hulk entity was literally ripped out from Banner. Gabriel vented his anger and revenge on Banner, killing him. Sound serious enough for you?" Fury asked. Reed scratched his head and spoke, "So, you're worried there's something more to this character then?" Fury nodded, handing him the documents. Richards scanned them all with his eyes, taking great interest on the Surfer's history. "Cosmic powers, huh? We had the same thing with the alien race; the Kree. They bragged about it, they disappeared within two months due to the X-Men scaring them off…" Richards paused as he reread the document on the Silver Surfer. "So without breaking a sweat, he could do that to the Hulk? No one can. Not even Thor." Richards claimed, turning to the next page. "Project Galactus? I know about this…the tribes." Richards saw photos of worshippers, kneeling before a statue. "These images I've seen before, the word bizarre doesn't even describe it. The translation you've got here means…planet devourer?" Richards stopped. "Now you can see why we didn't bother before. We thought it was some crazed new cult, probably lead by Kang. We didn't take any of this into account, until now. Look closer at the images, those ones of the various statues…" Fury mentioned, picking out the photos. He pointed to one photo, and engraved onto the statue was none other than the Silver Surfer. "A mere coincidence perhaps, but I'm not taking any chances. Especially when you'll discover what's on this memory stick." Fury handed Reed Richards the small memory stick, which he plugged into his laptop. The documents began to load slowly, as tons of windows appeared on the screen. "The Masters of Evil?" Richards wondered. Fury told him to look into it deeper. "Crikey, there was a whole bunch of these ex-villains trying to reform? There's well over seventy…" Richards said, rather shocked. "Now, we knew about this actual thing for years. S.H.I.E.L.D had been tracing practically every human that made an attack on a famed superhero, even after they had 'retired'. Now, consider this…I want you to read the file named 'Parker'." Fury ordered. Reed Richards opened it, to come across the autopsies of six dead villains. Each of these six, who had once fought Spider-man. "Is it surprising, that these deaths are recent? After the alien takes our information, and then declares his place on Earth? He's after these people, and I'm afraid he's after us. There's something terrible going on, Richards. We're not seeing the whole picture here. Something bigger is in play." Reed Richards brushed back his hair. "You have a point. The alien wouldn't kill for no reason at all. There is some order going along, I can tell." Reed pulled the memory stick out and passed it to Fury. "So, what do we do?" Fury wondered. Reed stood up and walked up towards the window. "When was he last spotted?" Richards asked. Fury walked up beside him, clearing his throat. "Sometime in Africa, two days ago…bizarrely enough." Fury claimed. "In Africa? Why there?" Reed questioned. "Well, some people from Wakanda mentioned they witnessed this alien at night. Scouring the night skies." Fury replied, placing the memory stick in his jacket pocket. They paused for a few seconds, as Reed's eyes concentrated on a fast moving object in the skies. Fury was looking down at the people below, as Reed started tapping on Fury's right shoulder. Reed was in shock and awe, as he witnessed something spectacular in the skies. He pointed at it, as Fury actually began to notice what Reed was looking at. "That's the…alien." Fury mentioned. "You can sure point out the obvious." Reed spoke, astounded by this spectacle. The Silver Surfer flew over the buildings, all the cars and the watching humans. He was nearing the Baxter Building as he glanced at the people in their office blocks. People were dropping their paperwork, even spilling coffee. They were questioning the presence of S.H.I.E.L.D. There was an alien flying around, causing panic. Surely, there would've already been assistance to the matter?

Nick Fury and Reed Richards were already outside the Baxter Building. Fury was searching his pockets to find anything, some sort of gun. He realised that he had left his weapons back on the Helicarrier. Which was rather daft, considering Fury always seemed to have some sort of gun on him. Reed adjusted his glasses as he witnessed the Surfer circle above, rather slowly. "I don't know what it is planning, but I want it out of the sky." Fury demanded, over the phone to someone. Reed pulled on his coat, "Fury. Hold back the forces for now; let us see what it actually wants." He spoke. Fury nodded, "Yeah, hold back for now. I'll give the order when to attack…" Fury finished the quick call and ran up to a cab. A rather unfit taxi driver wearing a red cap was in there driving, possibly picking someone up. Fury opened one of the doors, "Sorry, I'm going to need to take this car." The taxi driver looked at Fury and laughed. "Oh yeah? Whatever man. Get away from the car." He replied, still laughing. "Do you not know who you're speaking too?" Fury wondered. "To be honest, I don't care…" He was interrupted by the odd sight of two long stretched arms, poking him from the other side of the car. "What the hell?!" The taxi driver yelled, as Reed Richard's arms began to pull him out of the car. He was thrown out suddenly, and Reed's arms returned back to their normal size. "Nice to know you still got it." Fury said, smiling. They both entered the car and began to follow the Silver Surfer intent on reaching it. "He's turned left!" Reed claimed. Fury turned the car tightly around the corner, hoping he wouldn't lose the alien's trail. "Come on now, Fury. Let's not miss this opportunity to meet such a creature!" Reed continued. Fury didn't respond as he concentrated on the driving. "It's astounding, look at the way it moves…" Fury interrupted as he drove, "Look Richards, don't fall in love with it just now. I've got a nasty feeling about this alien encounter." Fury almost left the car on two wheels as it turned yet another corner. "Right, Fury. It's not everyday we get to see something like this anymore…though." Reed spoke. "Look, whenever something like this did appear, it never was for a good reason." Fury finished. Reed didn't reply as they soon reached the alien, who had bizarrely stopped in his tracks. Pedestrians watched on in awe. Children and adults alike, marvelled at the presence of this alien with a unique silver reflective body. Their jaws dropped, as did their shopping. Fury and Reed stormed out the car to push through the crowds. A crowd of humans surrounded the Surfer, awaiting what the alien was going to say. Fury contacted the Helicarrier, to be fully alert on the situation. Reed just stood there, examining the body of the Surfer with his eyes. The Surfer did begin to move, scanning the area around him. His mouth then opened, as he began to speak.

"This mighty Galactus, has summoned me to pass onto you…this message. The mighty planet devourer, known as Galactus has chosen to feast upon your planet. Do not resist this great force that will overwhelm your planet. Welcome it. Welcome the end of your existence, live it to the fullest…" The Surfer was interrupted by the vast amount of crowds, yet one voice bothered him. "You take your alien ass back to wherever it came from, scum." Fury yelled, pointing at the Surfer with his left arm. "That's right, you heard me the first time…didn't you? You can't stake your place on this planet of ours, and declare its end." Fury stood beside Reed, who didn't bother to speak. "Oh, but there is no other option I am afraid. Your demise is imminent." The Silver Surfer claimed. Nick Fury was outraged, yelling abuse at the alien. Reed stood beside him still with wide eyes gazing at the Surfer. "You can't come here threatening us…" Fury claimed. The Surfer replied immediately, "Oh, I am not threatening anyone. I am preparing them for the end." Fury began mumbling to himself, he was to angry to respond. Reed stepped up beside him, and asked the Surfer. "Why did this Galactus, chose Earth?" He questioned. The Surfer replied instantly, "Each planet is chosen at random across the entire galaxy. If the planet has the rich energy for Galactus to feed upon, it is chosen." Reed nodded, and turned to Fury. "We can't let this being get out of our sights. The public have never witnessed an alien up so close and personal, we've been lucky throughout these twenty years covering up alien activity. Fury, I'd suggest that you contact S.H.I.E.L.D and see what they can do." Reed suggested, stroking his chin. Fury nodded, "Yeah, I ain't gonna let all that effort we put in the past go to waste…"

"He's moving!" Fury shouted, as the Surfer began to rise in the sky. The public still watched on, people gazed with mouths wide open. Reed stretched his torso to get to around the Surfers height in the air. The Surfer just stared blankly at Reed, before turning. Fury began to contact S.H.I.E.L.D, "I want all of you to track this alien's whereabouts. You can find him…" The Surfer then began to zip through the sky at a tremendous speed, leaving a gush of wind in Fury and Reed's direction. They covered their eyes as the dust was blown into them. "Great, this is wonderful…" Fury said, before turning to Reed Richards. Reed took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "We'll get to him, don't worry…" Reed claimed. Fury didn't answer and just stared into the sky.

Meanwhile, in a much happier atmosphere two people gazed into each others eyes, sharing jokes and enjoying a meal. "Have we been laying off the ants recently?" Janet asked, Steve Roger's (Capt. America) wife. She was meeting up with her ex-husband Hank Pym; they had two marriages which failed miserably due to Hank's abusive nature. Yet, Janet still felt comfort in the man that once beat her terribly that it left her in a coma. "Of course I still got my ants. Never know when you might need them. Let's lay off the geek talk though, how's the retired fellow?" Hank questioned. Janet shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's doing just fine…still complaining, he's missing his past life." Janet answered. "Hey, I'll have to admit…so am I. Covering a hung-over Tony Stark in ants never gets old." They both laughed, ignoring the fact the alien Silver Surfer was now in this area confirming Earth's 'imminent demise'. Hank drank some of the wine he bought, and turned to see what all the commotion was about. Janet and Hank both stood up immediately, then turned to each other. Soon enough, they were running to the scene…

Hank's phone rang as Janet stood pulling on his arm. He picked up the call without checking to see who it was. They both watched the Silver Surfer as he explained how Galactus would 'consume' Earth. "Hank, this is Fury…" He spoke, over the phone. Hank interrupted him, "We've got a situation here, Nick." Hank declared. Janet stepped further towards the Surfer. "Lemme guess, weird silver alien telling everyone it's the end of the world?" Fury questioned. "You hit the nail on the head, Nick. What's going on, does S.H.I.E.L.D know about this?" Hank asked. "Of course we do…look, Hank. I'd love to chat about your life, and ask how Janet is…but I've decided to gather up a select few onto the Helicarrier." Fury claimed. Hank paused for a second, "How do you know I'm with Janet?" Fury didn't want to answer such a stupid question, "Hank Pym, I've everyone on surveillance…you should know that. By the way, Rogers is here. Hope you can two can chat…" Fury ended the phone call, only for Hank to be greeted by Janet. "Jan, we gotta get to the Helicarrier immediately…"

**On the dusty red planet Mars…**

"These cookies are divine!" The enslaver known as Thanos spoke. There he was on the planet Mars once more with his lover, Death. This time round, they were eating cookies. Apparently he enslaved some alien planet, and those inhabitants regularly send the most delicious cookies in the galaxy to him. Obviously, the cookies are dropping through Death's skull. Nonetheless, she still nods at Thanos' comments. "What is it Death?" Thanos questioned, as Death just sat motionless. "I sense something is wrong…what is it, my dear?" Somehow Thanos began to think Death could sense a problem. It was as if, they had some sixth sense. Thanos placed his right hand in front of him, only for a small crystal ball to appear. Thanos stared into the crystal ball, as an image of Nova appeared. He witnessed a conversation between Nova and Galactus. Thanos' expression changed, as he soon came to realise what was going on. He gritted his teeth and threw the crystal ball aside. "That Nova, has betrayed me! He's working with Galactus…now what am I going to do?!" Thanos looked down at the ground, infuriated. Death stood up and walked to the crystal ball slowly. After picking it up, she gazed into it. She began to stroke the crystal ball bizarrely, as she looked upon someone in his apartment. This man was none other than the mercenary Deadpool.

"Go get em! Go get em!" Wade Wilson yelled at the television set, watching some superhero reality show. He was eating some cold noodles and was drinking some out of date Pepso. He coughed on his noodles, and then proceeded to throwing the box out of the window. "Oh come on, so you've lost that arm…you've got another! Keep fighting!" Yelled Wade, at the television set. The television set turned off suddenly. Wade also threw his can at the TV. "Well, that didn't turn out how I expected it too." Wade soon received a phone call. He looked around to find the phone, scouring through his miscellaneous items. Throwing aside Hulk's torn shorts, Hawkeye's bow and also Thor's helmet. He turned back as the phone still rang, staring at Hulk's torn purple shorts. Once he picked up the phone, he began to look at himself wearing the torn shorts. "Hello, is this the mercenary Deadpool?" A voice over the phone questioned. "Hang on a second; I've got Hulk's shorts on. You wouldn't actually think a pair this big would chafe so much. I wonder how Brucey felt whenever he got mad. Hey, you know when he transforms…does his entire body do that? Because like…it'll be big, and green…" Deadpool pondered over these thoughts and shook his head. "Erm, excuse me…I have the wrong number…" The voice claimed. "No wait, you don't really! This is Deadpool. In Hulk's shorts. How do you do?" Deadpool questioned. "Ya know, I should have never stuck these in the wash. They must've shrunk. If they didn't, I now know why Hulk got so angry." Deadpool continued. "Deadpool, have you heard the news about the silver alien?" The voice questioned. "No, sir. What of this silver alien?" Deadpool wondered. He began to take off the Hulk's shorts, and proceeded to sticking Hobgoblin's cloak on. "Well, the silver alien is becoming a nuisance. It's declaring the end of the world. We need someone…to eradicate it." Deadpool nodded, whilst adjusting the Hobgoblin cloak. "Eradicate an alien that declares the end of the world. Simple. Where and when?" Deadpool wondered. "Well, we estimate he'll appear in Japan next. We'll have the flight organised, and someone shall be there to greet you. The price for getting rid of this alien, is thirty-seven thousand dollars." Deadpool seemed ecstatic. "Lovely. That'll get me new television at least…"

Back on Mars, Death admired Wade Wilson in his room through the crystal ball. She was still stroking the ball, bizarrely enough. Thanos sat in the background. "We're going to do something about Nova and the Silver Surfer, my love." Thanos claimed. He stepped up towards Death who stopped viewing Wade. Thanos placed both his hands on her shoulders. "We shall visit Earth. So we may be going there to retrieve the Silver Surfer, yet…we shall enjoy ourselves." Thanos spoke, looking into Death's eye sockets. Thanos turned around, and strangely showed a doorway. "Lead the way to Earth, my love." Thanos suggested. Death stepped through the doorway first, before disappearing. Thanos closely followed. The door slammed shut, and disintegrated.

Back on planet Earth, in a man's toilets were two men washing their hands. They were taking a cigarette break from work in their toilets, just naturally chatting to each other. One of them began to check his hair, he was rather vain. In the reflection he noticed one of the toilet doors opened. The man stopped checking his hair as he realised who it was. Thanos and Death appeared from the toilet. "Ah, Earthlings! Wonderful. Please let me introduce myself." Thanos said. The two men turned around with their mouths gaping. "What is wrong?" Thanos questioned. Both men didn't make a sound. "Hello, you are Earthlings…right?" Thanos questioned, once more. Thanos shrugged and they both stepped out the men's toilets. People in their office blocks dropped their files, stopped working and looked in shock. Thanos and Death just walked down the long corridors as people were shocked to see two bizarre alien creatures. Thanos walked by a secretary, who fainted. Thanos shrugged once more. They stepped into an elevator amongst some humans. To say they were bothered by their presence was an understatement. It was a really awkward feeling for the humans, stuck in the elevator with random aliens. The elevator reached the ground floor and they both stepped out. Soon enough, Thanos and Death were outside the large building. Cars stopped and crashed, people looked in shock. Like it was them witnessing the Silver Surfer all over again. This time, it was an oddly chinned, purple, largely muscled alien alongside a woman in a dark purple cloak, resembling Death. They presumed it was to do with the Silver Surfer, and some ran off. Thanos just turned to his lover. "Death. Methinks it would be best if we found a more accommodating area. What do you think?" Thanos wondered. Death just nodded, as they walked down the street…


End file.
